Now that things have almost completely reopened in California, our calendars are starting to fill back up with social gatherings, trips, working in person, and all the other joys of being in another’s presence. It is such a relief, and a call for celebration. Yet, some tender feelings linger.

During the lockdown period of the pandemic over here on the Left Coast, feelings started to arise around the topic of community as the months droned on. My husband and I are in a lovely, and somewhat unique, position of being surrounded by a large community of like-minded individuals. To clarify, when I say like-minded, I don’t mean that we agree on everything, hold the same political opinions, or have the same spiritual beliefs — it’s more to say that we share a commitment simply to being better humans. With that said, last year put many of these connections — and even the idea of community — into question.

Before the pandemic, most of us shared a common ground. We went to the same workshops, enjoyed the same parties, even had the same therapist! But, during this intense crisis, underlying shadows began to surface. Feelings of being on the outside, of not being cared for, questions of the reality of our closeness of connection, all came to the forefront as we navigated our personal mental and physical health in seclusion. 

One of the moments that really highlighted this for me was the decision from one of my social circles to move forward with a spiritual ceremony. I had big feelings about that decision, and even more for what it might mean about my participation and involvement with that part of my personal “tribe”. I conceptually understood why the decision to proceed was made, and I still felt ostracised, and judgemental as a form of defense — perhaps, a defense from the feelings of not being included, and holding differing opinions from that group on the finer points of reality. I felt sad that I would not be able to participate, and a strain at having to make the decision of whether to follow the rules, or whether to rebel. Lastly, I was strained at having to decide for myself and my immediate family what information was true or false, and what was most likely to keep my family the safest in the face of an invisible spectre. As I said, the feelings were BIG. That moment felt foundational, and my feelings at the time felt pretty final.

The journey through The Year of Clear Vision progressed, and the swirls of emotion kept churning. Sometimes I had space for everyone’s coping strategies. Sometimes I was able to trust the process. Then, I would Doom Scroll, only to find Insta posts from pods of friends I wasn’t included in, and those familiar feelings of being an outsider would again take their seat at my proverbial inner dinner table. Voices long tended to by hosting parties, and organizing play dates, now demanded to actually be heard for their original wounds. They were looking to be seen for who they truly are, not just placated. They wanted to be permanently assuaged — or indulged — if such a thing is possible. 

There was some success with sussing out these inner mechanisms, but this work is a practice, and there might forever be more to be done. Just when you think you’ve got the emotional body and her countless triggers handled, something happens to help unearth new territory. 

Along with a shifting relationship to community during 2020, work, too, was up for reconsideration. While some doors had closed, others had opened. These openings brought with them fresh ideas and new ways to navigate our world. Because we were in a moment of feeling both the pros and cons of distance work vs in-person time, there was more to consider for how to proceed moving forward after this Big Shift in our post-pandemic world.

Spirit downloaded a clear plan for Mama Bear in 2020, and now I would just have to decide to make it happen. That seems easy, right? In some ways you would be right. If that Monkey Mind could just take a chill pill and sit in the back seat for a minute, I could implement this damn thing. But, that doesn’t seem to be the way it works to be human.

I will host quarterly in-person gatherings covering various topics related to Women’s Wisdom starting in 2022, and bumping up against the fulfilment of this vision are all kinds of resistance. I had noticed recently that I didn’t want to do this alone (even though I really do want to), and started to wonder more about what was really going on, and how I could move through it. I decided to sign up for a program that can help walk me through the logistics of planning and implementing my vision, as well as addressing these emotional blockages. As always when we make the commitment to some kind of healing or support, the magic starts to happen as soon as you sign that dotted line. 

After making that external commitment, I realized that I am afraid. My trepidation comes from a desire to provide safety to my potential participants, and an unknowing of what that might actually look like. I plan to cover the tender topics of sexual initiation, anger, and attunements in energy work through a deepening relationship to your own body — these are topics that are intended to bring up the muckiest, most intense feelings available to humans on this planet. As the host of such events, there are likely to be moments of tension and projection and extreme discomfort. Even though this is all in service to our highest good, and living our best life (my husband’s favorite phrase), some may have this type of experience arise, and they might even blame me for those uncomfortable feelings. That’s scary!

I would — and have — tried to turn away from this call, but the pull to do this work is in my bones. I can feel it coming from the center of my being. The last thing I want is to hurt anyone. My desire to get women in touch with their sexual heat, and their anger, is a desire to guide women to healing from ancestral trauma, and to really get the most out of this life they are living. 

So, I have got to move through it. Instead of sedating The Monkey, I am choosing to lean in and hear her out. I hear her concerns about safety. I hear her concerns about responsibility. I hear her concerns about the message, and reach, likeability and reputation. I hear all of it — or as much as I am capable. 

And, I counter with experience.

Ceremony isn’t safe. Whatever comes up in that space, is what is supposed to come up. If things come up that are painful, that is the bronze asking for transformation into gold. As a guide, it is not my job to shield you, or protect you from discomfort. If I were to do so, I would rob you of all the things I am attempting to share: healing, power, awesomeness, and agency. Uncomfortable feelings DO NOT equate to a lack of safety. The time is nigh for each of us to take radical self-responsibility. Everybody poops. Own your shit.

Ceremony also happens to be a microcosm of our lives in community writ large. It just might be the case that we are meant to like some of the folks we spend time with, and get triggered by some of the folks we spend time with, and sometimes those people are the same person. It might just be delusional to think that our community will be a better one were we to go somewhere else. 

As one wiser than I once said, “Everywhere you go, there you are”. There is the real potential that no matter what group of people you choose to engage with, you will always bump up against the same complaints, because those things reside within you, not the other way around. If you feel unloved, it won’t matter how much your friends shower love upon you, you will never have the eyes to see it, or heart to feel it. If you feel like an outsider, you can get invited to every party that is ever thrown, and you will still find and focus on those events you were kept from. If you feel misunderstood, maybe it is you who is being unclear, maybe you are unclear with yourself.

The soul calls, and we must choose whether to follow.

This time, that is what I choose.